What I Could Not Tell You
by CountToEight
Summary: DISCONTINUED Unable to bear the loneliness he endures when his friends shun him after the Incident, Sirius flees to Hogsmeade to escape. Unfortunately, what he finds there is not any less painful...
1. Default Chapter

**Title: What I Couldn't Tell You**

**Rating: R**

**Warnings: Dark Themes**

**Disclaimer: I do not own the rights to anything Harry Potter related.**

I really didn't have any idea what was going on. No, I was way too distracted, way too drunk, way too hurt. I couldn't take the loneliness and guilt of sitting in the Common Room, watching them. They were talking and laughing, purposefully avoiding my eye. After the first few days of my exile, they'd stopped being vicious and became far more hurtful.

I'll never forget when they crossed my name off our ((their)) map.

Their hatred of me burned like acid, and my self hatred burned me almost as much. I heard James make a comment on their summer plans together, and I couldn't take anymore. I had to leave. I knew he was trying to hurt me, and while I had always been certain they would forgive me someday, he had succeeded, and I had to forget about that mounting hurt. So I had taken the tunnel from our ((their)) map to Hogsmeade, and I went straight to the only night club that I had any access too. Neon Haze is a sort of trashy place, with dirty glasses and dim lighting, but it is the only club that any of us Hogwarts students are able to enter, though the teachers don't like us too. And I'll admit, sometimes undesirable things happen at that place.

But I didn't care. I rushed through the tunnel as quickly as my feet would carry me, thinking only of the escape the dark club would provide. To me, it seemed a hospital to nurse my wounds. It was a place to sedate myself and to make my pain go away. They let me through right away. Somehow, the Ministry never gets on their case for letting minors in. Perhaps that's because several Ministry men like spending their time there as well, leering at the school kids. I'd gotten used to them long ago – we ignore them mostly. In any case, the music was pounding, and I lost myself in the beat almost immediately. The song was obscene, and not particularly catchy, but it was definitely impossible to think too hard when the vibrations in your ears were so intense you felt nearly dizzy.

Far too soon, the fast-paced, distracting music was over, and they were playing some slow, romantic song. The reprieve from thought ended abruptly and I knew I had to find another way to chase it away until the next song. I remained on the floor for a moment, catching my breath as my pulse slowed to normal, before moving right off to the bar.

"Anything, please." I said vaguely to the man behind the counter. "Anything strong." He looked at me funny and shrugged, handing me something. I didn't care what it was, and I downed it as rapidly as possible. It burned on the way down. Good.

While I waited for the bartender to return with a second drink, someone took the seat next to me. I wouldn't have really noticed, if it weren't for an unsettling tingle running up my spine and raising the soft hairs on the back of my neck I glanced at him; he was in his thirties, and had the look of someone who goes straight from the gym to the tattoo parlor every evening. I also had no choice but to note that he was staring right back at me.

"Um…" I said awkwardly, disconcerted. He smiled nastily at me.

"Hey there, kid." He said to me, unabashedly leering. Uncomfortable, I tried to move to the next seat over. To my surprise, I found it occupied. Strong arms snaked around my waist from behind. My eyes widened and I pulled away violently to stare at them. Guy # two was a good deal bigger than Guy # one, and looked just as mean. They both went to stand, but I instantly turned and fled into the crowd, sparing one last fearful glance at them. They didn't seem to follow.

I navigated my way through the dancers feverishly, finally reaching the opposite wall and leaning against it, drawing a deep breath. I'd been hit on by men here before, of course – that was expected in such a place. However, something had really freaked me out about these two. Maybe I was just paranoid. I felt heavy and there was a buzzing in my ears already. Whatever the barman gave me, he'd definitely given me something plenty strong. I closed my eyes to try and clear my head, but when it only made me dizzier, I decided it was time to leave.

I bumped into someone on my way out. "Sorry," I muttered, not looking up.

"Sirius?"

NOW I looked up. "Asher?"

Standing in front of me was Asher Clemens, a Ravenclaw in my year. We'd never spoken much, but he seemed like a cool guy. Right now, he looked concerned. "Hey Sirius, you don't look very well. Are you feeling alright?"

Of course I didn't look very good. People who didn't know me well have been asking if I'm alright for days. But right now, I really didn't feel very well. I threw Asher a lopsided smile. "I just need some air," I assured him before I left the club.

It was cold outside, which immediately helped with the buzzing in my ears. I let out a long breath and leaned against the wall for a few seconds before I started to walk back to Honeydukes. Only a few steps away, though, I heard a low voice behind me.

"Hey."

I turned around and immediately something was pressed over my mouth. I instinctively gasped into it and tasted something chemical in nature. I tore back from it, coughing. The guy from the bar was standing in front of me, holding a rag of some sort. He looked annoyed.

"Jordan, get your lazy ass over here and help me out." He snapped, and to my horror, the second guy appeared from the shadows along the wall. I started to run, but Jordan (the bigger one) grabbed me from behind mid-stride and I fell to my knees in his grasp. I prepared my self to be smothered with the rag again when suddenly a familiar voice spoke up.

"Hey!" shouted Asher Clemens from the entrance to Neon Haze. I jerked my head around to stare at him. "What the hell are you doing!"

Jordan's grip relaxed, and I tore away from it, stumbling to my feet and back. "Asher, be carefu –" I started to warn him, but before I finished my sentence, there was a loud banging noise, and Asher was thrown back onto the snow. My eyes widened and my words caught in my throat when I saw blood speckled over the white frost. My eyes then went to the first guy. His arm was outstretched and held in it was a strange metal contraption, which looked vaguely familiar. I was so stunned that I didn't even notice Jordan coming toward me until the rag covered the front half of my face and I inhaled chemicals once more.


	2. Chapter 2

**Title: What I Couldn't Tell You**

**Rating: R**

**Warnings: Angst, Self-Harm, Underage Drinking, Rape, Slash, Sex**

**Disclaimer: I do not own the rights to anything Harry Potter related.**

**Note: Thanks to Westkitsune for the tip! I didn't realize I'd had it set against anonymous reviews – all fixed.**

When I woke up, I had to think for a minute to remember where I was, and what was happening. Speeding my revelation along was the realization that my arms were bound behind me, and I felt weak and helpless – something I very very rarely felt.

I gasped as the memories of the earlier chaos surfaced, and it was this that drew the attention of my captors.

My first, still unnamed captor, looked up from what he was doing – reading something over, by the look of it – and saw me staring around. The next moment, he had grabbed me by the ankle and dragged me to him. "About time you woke up, pretty boy." He sneered at me, putting aside the article. I stared up at him from the floor, bewildered at my own vulnerability. My muscles didn't seem to want to move, and he seemed so imposing, though technically he wasn't that much bigger than I…

"You gave me something." I said, as realization dawned. "You've given me a drug!"

He rolled his eyes. "Oh, really, what do you think I am?" he asked, smirking. "I've given you a potion, not a drug." He laughed at his own joke. The other captor, Jordan, laughed too, though dimly. He struck me as a dangerous idiot.

"My mistake." I said dryly. "Who are you? And what do you want?" I asked, deciding to be as rebellious in vocal terms as possible, since I was helpless physically. He slapped me – my head snapped to the side. I was taken by surprise. I couldn't even remember the last time I'd actually been _slapped_.

"Have some respect, you little whore." He snapped at me. "I'm Atson. This oaf is Jordan." He jabbed his thumb in the direction of his partner, watching them blankly. "We are your masters now. Got it? And we want exactly what anyone would want from you. And I'm sure you can figure out what that is." He smiled nastily, running his thumb along my jaw. My eyes widened and I jerked away from him.

Out of the corner of my eye I saw a blur of black as I did so. I focused on it and recognized my bookbag – I must have brought it with me to the club, without thinking. A flicker of hope rose in my chest. Our ((their)) mirror was still in there – they'd never asked for it back. I prayed for a chance to use it.

A second later, a heavy weight was on top of me. I snapped back to attention as Atson, glaring at me predatorily, straddled

Me, pressing my bound wrists into the ground behind my back. I gasped and bucked as hard as I could, which wasn't very hard at all. Rather than my desired affect of throwing him off me, he responded with a throaty moan and bucked back into me.

"Get the Hell off me!!" I yelled, struggling. He clamped his hand roughly onto my mouth, stifling me. I groaned and continued struggling, but Atson wasn't stopping. His free hand was working on unbuttoning my school shirt, but he was having difficulty – he thus removed his hand from my mouth to properly strip me. In order to keep me quiet, however he replaced it with his own mouth.

I groaned as his hot, chapped lips met mine bruisingly. He groaned as well, presumably enjoying it very much. I closed my lips tightly when I felt his tongue flick out, running over my bottom lip. I resisted, trying to struggle from under him, but he caught my head with both hands and held it in place, forcing his tongue through my lips. I felt a wave of nausea pass through me as he began searching my mouth, frantically, holding nothing back. It was slimy and unwelcome and, to my absolute horror, I already felt myself giving in.

What was this? I was Sirius Black. _Me_!!! I should struggle harder, I should beat him, I should kill him!!

But even as this occurred to me, I also realized that at some point he'd managed to get my shirt off, and that new recognition brought tears of defeat to my eyes. So, when his hands released my head and retreated to my groin, I didn't pull away. I allowed him to continue his invasion of my mouth, tears streaming down my cheeks, as he began working on my pants. I had come very near to accepting it, feeling him undo my zipper and slip one hand down my pants, when a crash sounded.

He stopped. He pulled back. I opened my eyes. Jordan had gone from the room, the door was open, and there was a string of cursing coming from downstairs. Atson swore and climbed off me, running out and pausing in the doorway. "You stay just where you are, got it?!" he spat at me, before disappearing and locking the door behind him. I lay there, catching my breath, reeling.

As panic was seizing me, I forced myself to calm down. I thought of Remus. Smart, mild, logical, beautiful Remus…what would he do? He'd assess his situation and figure out a logical, safe way out of here.

I took a deep breath and thought about my situation. I was 1) Still drunk, as I was only just realizing. 2) Tied up and shirtless, in some room I'd never seen before, with no idea where I was. 3) Being held captive by a sadistic pervert and his creepy, mindless lackey. I had the mirror, which I could use to call my friends – but I couldn't reach it, as my hands were bound, and I wasn't sure they'd help me anyway. And 4) I was suddenly remembering Asher, and his apparent wounding.

God help me.


	3. Chapter 3

**Title: What I Couldn't Tell You**

**Rating: R**

**Warnings: Angst, Self-Harm, Underage Drinking, Rape, Slash, Sex**

**Disclaimer: I do not own the rights to anything Harry Potter related.**

Atson didn't return right away, and I took advantage of the opportunity to work at my bonds. It wasn't totally effective, as it was very difficult to use my hands, but I did manage to loosen the cord around my wrists. Just as I was beginning to think I'd be able to escape before he could do anything damaging, Atson returned.

"God damn idiot, he's going to get us arrested!" he hissed, slamming the door behind him, so hard that a couple of the photos – ones I hadn't noticed, ones that seemed to all be of beautiful teenage boys and girls, either crying or unconscious – fell from the wall. I started, cursing myself mentally. He took a deep breath and looked at me, a malevolent smirk spreading across his pointed, cruel face. He walked over, and straddled me again, seeming to calm down.

"Jordan broke our sliding glass door, practicing his karate." He explained, running a hand through my hair. It tickled, and I arched my neck, surprised. Atson chuckled.

"I knew you were a little tramp, didn't I?" he breathed in my face, his hand leaving my hair and trailing down my neck. I swallowed a slight groan as his fingertips barely brushed the soft, invisible hairs there, causing chills to go up and down my spine. I closed my eyes, feeling sick, and felt Atson sit up. I opened them, to see him looking at my bag. He climbed off and grabbed it, pulling it open and rummaging through it.

My eyes widened. "D-don't….!!!" I said weakly, trying to move, but somehow I'd gotten weaker since I'd gotten there. I had a sinking feeling they might have put something in my drink…He glanced back at me and smirked, pulling out the mirror. I paled.

"You're a vain one, are you?" he sneered, checking his own reflection in it. "I knew you were…no boy as pretty as you is that way without work…what's this?" He squinted at it. "Property of Sirius Black and James Potter." He read. The glass glowed faintly, but he didn't notice, as he'd turned to me. I was staring at him, wide-eyed.

"Which one are you, then? Sirius or James?" he asked me. I was still staring at the mirror, noticing no voice was responding. James must still be ignoring me.

"S-Sirius…" I whispered, petrified. His eyebrows raised, looking delighted. "What a perfect name! So unusual…so pretty…." He lay down the mirror, returning to me, burying his face in my neck. My breath hitched, but I kept my attention on the mirror. "Such a pretty name for such a pretty boy…" he whispered, and I grimaced as I felt his tongue flick out and run over my throat, hot and wet. Suddenly he stopped again as James's voice sounded, faint but clear.

"Sirius?! Siri-Black!!! What do you want?! Where are you?! Who was that man?!" he was shouting, sounding partly enraged, slightly worried. Though the worry might have been wishful thinking. In any case, before I could shout for help, Atson leaped away from me, seized the mirror, and to my horror, threw it against the wall, shattering it. He whirled on me, his eyes blazing.

"What the hell was that, boy?!" he demanded, and my heart skipped at the fury in his voice. "What are you, some sort of spy?! Are you trying to bring me down, you little fuck?!" He had grabbed me by the neck, pulling me up. I gagged, and he roughly threw me onto the bed. I grunted as I bounced slightly upon impact, and then he was on top of me again, slapping me in the face. I yelped, embarrassingly, and his fingers were in my hair again – but this time instead of caressing, they tightened, pulling my head up painfully. I stared into his eyes, which seemed to have lost all trace of control.

"I'll teach you boy…" he hissed, throwing my head back down. His fingernails raked down my bare chest, and the trails of pain shot through me sharply. I bit my lip and threw my head to the side, grunting. His hands were at my waistband, frantically unbuttoning, unbuckling, removing. I gasp as he pulls my slacks off, and jolt into struggle again. He slaps me again, and I stop, falling silent as I accept what's happening. Oh god…Oh god….

I stared at the ceiling as he finished stripping me, but I was forced back into the present as he lay full out on top of me, seizing me in another bruising kiss, one arm wrapped firmly around my waist, the other going straight to my right nipple and squeezing. The pain made me scream into his mouth, and once again his tongue is in my mouth, probing, raping. I whimpered as he stopped pinching, and began rubbing gently, circling the sensitive skin. It hurt but felt good, god it felt good, and I moaned into him.

He snickered again, pulling back, and his mouth went to my other nipple, suckling, licking, pulling. I whimpered as, against my will, I felt myself grow hard, hot. He ground into me, and a sinful pleasure shot through me, and I moaned louder this time. Suddenly he's not teasing anymore, and he bit my nub. I screamed, and he released me. "That's right, scream for me, you little fuck…" he growled throatily, his arms abandoning my chest and thrusting my legs apart. I gasped as he jerked them over his shoulders, feeling the hot, stuffy air of the room engulf me as I felt a hand wrap around my length, squeezing gently.

I whimpered helplessly as my hips thrust weakly against him, and he chuckled softly as he slowly stroked me, torturously slow. I bit my tongue against the pleasure, crying by this point. He was whispering to me, whispering in my ear, his hot breath raising the hairs on my neck. I sobbed, as I felt my self growing close to release, and suddenly his hand was taken away. I nearly cried out as the mounting tension in my groin was left on it's own, painfully, and I heard metal on metal and a zipping noise. The next thing I knew, something hot and firm was sliding along my anus, not entering but pushing, rocking, right by it. A wave of nausea passed through me again as Atson groaned above me loudly, his hands pressing my shoulders into the bed. I prayed he would continue this way, that he would finish and be done, but suddenly he wasn't not sliding by anymore – his tip was at my entrance, and before I had a chance to realize what was happening, he'd thrust into me.

Agony exploded through me and I screamed at the top of my lungs, as he pushed in and out of me, harshly, without holding back. I writhed beneath him, sobbing as I tried to get away, but his nails bit into my shoulders and he moaned gutturally, pounding faster and faster into me. The pain was incredible, and from the sound of his moans, he was getting closer to release. Right as he thrust into me the last time, deeper than ever, I felt him brush something inside me, and pleasure shot through me in a flash that lasted only a moment. Then, it was over, and the pain took over again as he came inside me, a hot, sticky liquid deep inside me. He stopped, holding himself up by his arms, his weight bruising my shoulders. He panted, flushed, his eyes heavy lidded. Then, he moaned in satisfaction, collapsing on top of me, asleep.

I stared at the ceiling from under him, tears running down my cheeks, my entire body sore. I was trapped, I felt worthless, frightened, used….Damn, why did I have to go clubbing….This was my punishment, this was deserved, after what I had done…to my perfect, trusting Remus….I closed my eyes and whimpered, bringing my hands to my eyes in misery.

Wait.

My hands…?


	4. Chapter 4

I

**Title: What I Couldn't Tell You**

**Rating: R**

**Warnings: Angst, Self-Harm, Underage Drinking, Rape, Slash, Sex**

**Disclaimer: I do not own the rights to anything Harry Potter related.**

I jerked, staring at my hands. At some point during his assault, the bindings must have come free on their own accord. Atson grunted in his sleep. My attention turned back to him – he was disgusting, snuggled up to me, fast asleep. How anyone could fall unconscious so quickly and guiltlessly? I grimaced and slowly worked my way out from under him. It was very lucky he slept so hard, since I was shaking like hell and wasn't very good about being gentle, but I managed to get him off and I scrambled off the bed.

I kept staring at him tensely as I hurriedly grabbed by clothes and clumsily pulled them. It was only after I was clothed again, and I realized he wasn't going to wake up, that my pounding fear calmed and I was able to breathe again. I leaned against the wall, considering what to do. The only answer was, of course, to run and get back to Hogwarts. But first, I felt a strong surge of hatred course through me as Atson mumbled in his sleep, hatred that I realized had been oddly absent while he was raping me.

I hated him with all my being, from his pointed face to his rough hands to his cold, sly voice. I wanted my hatred to be for what he had done to me, to despise him for taking what wasn't his, but in that sense I felt only hurt and misery. The hatred was, oddly enough, for my mirror.

He'd shattered my mirror, the one item of friendship left to me, the one that had given me hope of forgiveness. They hadn't asked for it back yet, they'd let me keep it. Maybe it had slipped their mind, but it didn't matter, because I still had it. I had held out hope that one day they would call me on it, laughing, and tell me that it was alright, they'd forgiven me. But now, even while James was in the reflective glass, yelling at or for me ((the hatred pulsed so that I couldn't remember which)), this man, this monster had destroyed it. It felt as though he had destroyed my chance at living. I didn't even realize I had seized the jagged shard of glass until I was above him, and holding the shard high above my head.

"NOOOOOO!!!!!"

Something large and heavy smashed into me, and I was thrown off the bed onto the ground. The pain of a thousand bits of glass biting into the skin of my back brought me back to reality.

Jordan was standing at the foot of the bed, his stupid eyes wide and horrified, staring at me. I groaned slightly as I sat up, my entire body crying out at its abuse.

"You would have hurt Atson…" Jordan said disbelievingly, as though he'd thought me a loyal friend. It was the most I'd heard him speak. I stared back at him. His large hands clenched and he stepped toward me. My heart tightened in fear, and I scrambled up.

"Stay back." I told him in a shaky voice. His dazed expression didn't change, and he kept coming toward me. I stepped back, and my back hit the corner of the room. I paled. Jordan's lip was now curling and he drew back his fist. In a split second I realized the shard was still in my hand and then My arm was thrust outward, and Jordan was on the ground, a great piece of glass embedded into his shoulder. He was screaming something, and as I grabbed my bag and fled from the room, down the stairs, and into the living room, I heard Atson's voice float down. "What the fuck are you screaming about, you oaf?"

Somehow I had found their floo powder, and I was jumping into the green flames of their fireplace, and calling out the first place that came to mind. "The Shrieking Shack!" I gasped out, and I was gone.

A/N: Terribly sorry about the long wait, and then, I know, short chapter with a cliffie – the next chapter will be longer, I promise you!!!


	5. chapter 5

**Title: What I Couldn't Tell You**

**Rating: R**

**Warnings: Angst, Self-Harm, Underage Drinking, Rape, Slash, Sex**

**Disclaimer: I do not own the rights to anything Harry Potter related.**

I landed on all fours, half in and half out of the dusty old fireplace, coughing on a generous amount of ash. The dry powder coated my throat and my mouth, and all the pain and the lingering taste of Atson made me move from coughing to retching. I emptied the contents of my stomach on the familiar wood floor of the Shack, hot tears running down my cheeks. When I finished I gasped for breath, sitting back on my legs. I caught my breath for the thousandth time that night, looking around at the deserted house I knew so well.

As my pulse slowed and my breath regulated (Déjà vu, who, me?), faint memories came back to me. In the back of my mind I could hear us all laughing as Peter turned into a rat for the first time. I saw James coming to the shack with a huge, goofy grin on his face and his hair mussed, with Lily's lip color staining his lips. I saw Remus, his lean chest bare under the hospital sheet, fast asleep, his honey-colored hair swept softly onto the pillow. My heart sank as I remembered how he let me shampoo his hair once, unable to leave the hospital bed. We'd been laughing so hard, and it felt so comfortable when he lay his head in my lap while I toweled it dry. I had ruined it all. They hated me. I was worthless and alone.

I closed my eyes against it, standing slowly up. I felt bare and weak. I felt sick. I needed to sleep, I needed to just sleep for days, sleep forever, until it was all erased, and I'd never gone dancing. I stumbled down the passage, grasping along the walls for support. I made it onto Hogwarts grounds and into the school without collapsing. I knew I couldn't go to Gryffindor Tower yet – I couldn't face my peers now. I was an unwanted, dirty little traitor, and they would curl their lips at me in disgust, inching away from me. I didn't know what day or time it was. I opened the nearest door – a broom cupboard – and closed the door behind me, curling into the corner, my legs hugged to my chest. I felt ridiculous, like a little girl, but the faint lemon smell of cleaner was refreshing, and the utter darkness and solitude made me feel safe. My eyes drifted closed and I fell asleep nearly instantly.

I woke up to jarringly loud laughter out in the hall. It sounded like Bertha Jorkins and Naomi Rivers, gossiping about something or another. They passed by and I groaned, sitting up. My neck was stiff and I was bruised all over, but the pale light coming through the crack in the door brought me out of my daze. I stood up and slowly opened the door. There was no one in the hall, and I sighed in relief, grabbing my bag and hurrying to Gryffindor Tower. It was deserted, meaning classes had started. I hurried to the bathroom to shower.

Standing under the warm water I closed my eyes, letting it pound on me. It didn't feel clean enough. I turned the knob higher. The water's temperature increased, so it was nearly painful. I looked at my arm as the hot water beat down on it. Dark purple and blue bruises were blossoming all over it, scratches that bled slightly. The unmarked skin was pink from the heat.

It felt dirty.

I grabbed the soap and scrubbed at the skin as hard as I could. The light blue soap foamed and lathered, but as the scalding water washed it off the purple and blue was still there. Tears pricked at my eyes. They were dirty, signs of weakness, like being branded. I scraped at them with my nails desperately. They didn't wash away but my index finger dug in enough that a thin line of blood welled up from it. It was shallow, and the blood was cherry red, but it was pretty. I paused, looking at it.

Pretty. Blood was clean, wasn't it? The main essence of our being, what we're made of. Yes, blood is the cleanest we can get. I smiled faintly as the water mixed with the blood and it drizzled down my arm and flowed in a diluted rivulet onto the porcelain bathtub, down the drain. The blood was gone, but I felt better. I turned off the water and grabbed a towel, wrapping it around me.

After I'd dressed again in my spare, clean uniform, I stood uncertainly in the middle of the common room, unsure what to do. I couldn't go to class, not in the middle of the day, and there was no way in hell I'd be able to concentrate on school work anyway. I realized I didn't know quite how long I'd been out. Surely it hadn't been more than a day.

Now that I was clean and my hair was wet my mind felt clearer. I sat down on the armchair in the corner, looking blankly at the portrait entrance without really seeing it. I had to think.

I had snuck out of school to get drunk and dance. I'd probably intended to hook up with someone anyway. I'd been kidnapped. I'd been raped. I'd escaped…and now I was back at school, where I was alone. I couldn't write home for reassurance – the thought alone caused me to chuckle darkly. There was no one I could trust to help me…

Thinking about help made me feel sick and small. I shouldn't be thinking about help. It was all my fault, and I was a strong person. I should have stopped them. No one would be interested in helping me for getting drunk and going out. A numb cold spread over me as I thought about that. I'd asked for what happened. I'd sought it out myself. That decided it. Not telling, no help, no nurse. I would forget this.

I was still sitting in the corner, totally out of it, when the portrait slid up and a large group of students entered, laughing and talking. I didn't look up until I realized that after a few moments they had fallen totally silent. I glanced up.

James, Remus, Peter, Lily, and the other four sixth year Gryffindors were standing about ten feet away from me, all staring at me in shock. I stared back at them, confused.

"Um…what?" I asked, still sounding dazed, even to my own ears. They kept staring, and then Anita Callack ran at me and grabbed me in a hug. Instantly I tensed, my mind screaming at such an abrupt invasion of space. I managed not to yell, but gave a strangled gasp and shoved her right off me. Surprised, she fell on her bottom.

"Sirius Black, what was that for?!" she cried, indignant. Anita was a short, cute girl with big brown eyes and blonde hair, and she had a major crush on me. This wasn't arrogance talking – she'd been asking me out since we were eleven. Now she looked hurt and angry.

"I…you…why…?" I stammered, my blood pounding in my head so I knew I was red.

"You act all woe-is-me for weeks, run out of the Common Room muttering to yourself, disappear for _three days_, at the same time as that Ravenclaw Clemens is shot, and you just shove me away like I have no right to be worried?!" she cried, glaring at me. I gave a mental start. At least I knew how long I'd been out now.

"I-I'm sorry, I…." I began. James cut me off.

"Yeah, we're sure you were just surprised." He said coldly. "You'd never hurt anyone who thought you were a friend."

I stared at him, and my eyes slid to Remus, standing quietly next to him. He was staring at me with a closed off look. I knew it either meant he was feeling angry or he was concerned. James's glare burning into me made me suspect it was the first option.

"Where were you, Sirius?" he asked quietly, his striking amber eyes looking indifferently right into my own. Remus was never really indifferent about anything. He thought about everything, he had opinions about _everything_. He was pissed at me. Well, of course he was.

"I…just…went home for a few days." I said lamely, swallowing with difficulty. "My cousin Bella was getting married, and I was forced to go."

He held my gaze for a long moment. I think he knew I was lying. But how would he know that? Bellatrix _was_ getting married, and Remus didn't know when.

"Then who was that guy?" demanded James angrily. My eyes widened – the other Gryffindors, including Anita, who had stood now and was glaring sulkily at me from her friend Donna's side, were all still there, listening. I hoped that would make James lose the subject.

"What guy, James?" I asked, trying to sound calm. This couldn't happen. Too soon. I would forget Atson. I would _forget _him!!!

"Don't play dumb, Sirius, the one in the….er…" he trailed off, glancing at our nosy peers. Ah. He HAD noticed. I took my chance to escape.

"You all seem mad at me, so I'm going to get out of here for a while…" I said, inching toward the portrait hole. "I'm sorry for everything and…well, bye." I said, turning to leave as quickly as possible. I heard Lily cry out from inside the common room.

"Sirius, wait, I think you – "

I'm not sure what she was going to say. The portrait closed right then.

A/N: Well, it's longer….not truly long, but it's a start, right? I'm really really terribly sorry about the short chappie last, and I know I'm a terrible cliffer…Thank you all so much for being so kind, however! This is my first fic of this sort, and your support is really making me enthusiastic to continue. Don't hurt me!

PS: I thought it was obvious, but I've had a few questions – this IS going to be Remus/Sirius, after a while here. This is going to be a pretty long story, I think, so be patient. Everything is going to work itself out, I promise.


	6. chapter 6

**Title: What I Couldn't Tell You**

**Rating: R**

**Warnings: Angst, Self-Harm, Underage Drinking, Rape, Slash, Sex**

**Disclaimer: I do not own the rights to anything Harry Potter related.**

After escaping them, I went to the library. It was a place I normally avoided like the plague, but it was quiet and empty, and I could breathe there. The librarian was watching me suspiciously for the first ten or so minutes. Eventually she returned to her work, though, and I was relieved to just wander through the shelves of books and glance at titles, keeping my mind as blank as I could.

I wasn't much of a reader, to tell you the truth. I could read better than most of the students my year, but it just didn't interest me. Why would anyone want to spend time on something titled The Dust Of A Thousand Years? I smiled wanly, seeing the thick novel on one shelf. I'd asked Remus the very same question the year before, when he'd been reading it. He'd looked up from his book with his eyes shining and his cheeks flushed in the sort of passion that only a book could bring out of him, and had proceeded to tell me in a great many words and gestures the true glory and brilliance of the novel, which was apparently about some ancient stone gargoyle, or something like that. I hadn't really listened to the words he was speaking. I spent the whole time staring into his eyes, so bright and excited, and listening to his gentle voice ride up and down in a wave of passion that only my friends and I ever witnessed. I'd done that a lot since fourth year.

I had known I loved Remus for three years now. I'd loved all of them, Remus, James, and Peter, ever since first year, of course, but it was when we were fourteen I'd fallen for Remus. I don't know what happened. All I know is that one day I couldn't stop thinking about him, smiling at him, or casually touching him, as often as I could get away with without suspicion. I'd never told anyone, of course. I hated to think what Anita would do, let alone how my friends would react.

I had wanted to kiss him, and to hold him. I'd wanted to go on dates, where I would try vainly to get him to loosen up and have something to drink. I'd wanted to kiss all his tears away, and I'd wanted to make him mine. I had imagined him touching me, whispering my name as we made love. It had seemed so beautiful, so perfect. It made me sick now to think I had ever thought someday he would maybe let me take him, as though I were worthy of him. I had betrayed him. I was a dirty, horrible traitor.

It had been three months since I told Snape. That god damned bastard had ruined everything.

_Flashback_

"_So Severus, where's that Gryffindor boy of yours? The one you're always staring at?"_

_I paused as I was walking through the hallway, passing by the Potions classroom, voices floating out. Curious, I leaned my head near the door._

"_You mean Lupin?" I heard Snape say sharply. My eyes widened in shock. "You noticed that?"_

"_Severus, you practically leer at him all day long. I mean, yeah, he's pretty, but really, get over it. He's a prissy Gryffindor prat who's never said an aggressive word in his life. He's boring."_

"_Come to think of it, he disappears a lot, doesn't he?" came another voice. "Always looks kinda sickly and weak. But in a good way. Vulnerable, you know." Someone snickered. I clenched my fist._

"_He's gone for two or three days a month." Snape said dully. I was stunned. I couldn't believe he'd noticed. He was still talking. "I have no idea where he goes, but he always comes back looking so small and pale. I don't know why, he just makes me want to…well, I just want to take him to our dormitory and find out just how fragile he is." I heard him chuckle. I didn't rush in right there, but backed off. It was later, when I saw Snape leave dinner that I ambushed him._

"_What the hell are you doing, Black?!" He snarled as I shoved him against the wall. I punched him in the face. He yelled in pain and his hands flew to his face, where his nose was bleeding._

"_Stay away from Remus, you greasy bastard!" I hissed at him. He stared at me from between his hands._

"_What the hell are you on about?" he asked me, sounding nasal as his nose was filled with blood._

"_I know you've been watching Remus, you fucking sicko, and you will stay away from him, got it?" I told him under my breath, kicking him in the stomach. He grunted._

"_Why should I? He's just asking for someone to fuck him, looking so fragile and woe-be-gone. It worked on you, right?" he sneered at me. "You're worried someone's going to touch your fuck-toy, is that it? Well don't worry, Black, I'd never touch a Gryffindor, no matter how pretty. I don't need your diseases."_

_I kicked him again, my blood boiling. "You shut your trap, you bastard!!!" I stepped away from him, my fists clenched tightly and shaking. "You want to know where Remus goes every month? Fine – I'll tell you." I knew I should stop now, I knew I was making a terrible mistake, but I didn't shut up. "Tonight, go to the Whomping Willow after dark. There's this knot in the bark, if you touch it the limbs will stop and there's a passageway there. Follow it. You'll see why Remus is so tired all the time." I spat at him. Instantly my blood went cold, and my eyes widened. I'd actually done it. I'd betrayed Remus now._

_I turned and ran._

Well, I didn't want to relive what happened that night. James had saved Severus from death, I'd been in detention for a month and a half, and my friends refused to speak to me. It was the biggest mistake I'd ever made, and I'd made a lot.

A/N: Ha, take that…people who doubted me! blinks I got a whole chapter up in one day, and it's not even uber-short either! Yes…still not truly long…but it's fair, right? I even managed to not leave you at a cliffhanger for once. I'm trying to please you guys, really I am!

I have some questions to answer:

First, I thought it was understood that the reason his friends were mad at him was the Shrieking Shack incident, where he told Snape, but I had quite a few people ask, so I hope this chapter cleared it up. As well, this will be Sirius/Remus, as I also revealed in this chapter. Don't know how quickly that will progress, though.


	7. chapter 7

I **Title: What I Couldn't Tell You**

**Rating: R**

**Warnings: Angst, Self-Harm, Underage Drinking, Rape, Slash, Sex**

**Disclaimer: I do not own the rights to anything Harry Potter related.**

I hadn't realized anyone was near me until they started talking. I snapped back to reality, turning my head to Professor Mcgonagall, who was staring at me with an odd expression I couldn't honestly place.

"…have you been!" she was saying to me, her arms crossed. I realized her expression was one of angry concern. An odd emotion, angry concern. It hasn't been directed at me often before…plenty of anger, but not often concern. I'm not actually sure how I knew the expression so quickly, since not many people ever show it, and it makes a sort of weird combination of features when they do….Oops. Mcgonagall was speaking again.

"Black! Back to the present, please!"

"Oh, uh…" I stammered, blinking rapidly. "I was called home for a few days. My cousin's wedding." I smiled at her with my best imitation of a charming smile. She frowned at me.

"Your family did not tell the Headmaster. You just disappeared, along with reports from your Housemates that you just ran from the tower in the middle of the evening." She said accusingly. My eyes widened slightly. I hadn't realized anyone had _noticed_. "It caused quite a stir, young man." She said distastefully. I smiled wryly. Mcgonagall hates disorder. "You have a great deal of fans in this school. And what with Asher Clemens being shot with a muggle gun the same evening, you can imagine the rumors that have been flying around –"

"Shot?" I interrupted, my eyes widening. I remembered the loud banging from behind me, and Asher being thrown back. I thought back to Muggle Studies and suddenly I realized just what had happened. "Is he alright?"

She sighed, softening slightly. "The poor boy is in a coma." She said, sadly. My heart skipped a beat. Oh God.

"Where was he shot?" I asked, trying not to sound panicked. She didn't notice if I did.

"Right below his ribcage." She answered. "Normally we would keep this information secret, but we heard the rumors being passed around the school. Yesterday I heard that he'd been stabbed seven times." She smiled slightly.

"Can I see him?" I asked her. She looked at me strangely.

"I have rarely ever seen you speak with the boy before." She said, almost accusingly. I smiled at her as best I could.

"I like him enough, though," I said. She narrowed her eyes a bit.

"We don't encourage students to badger those who have been through an ordeal. It's difficult for their best friends to get through, Mr. Black. Madame Pomfrey will not let you through."

My heart sunk in my chest. "Oh. Right."

"Sirius…" she said suddenly, surprising me. I blinked.

"Yes, Professor?"

"Are you feeling quite alright?" she asked, her eyes still narrowed at me. "You don't seem yourself, and you don't look well at all."

I immediately flashed a charmingly hurt look at her. "You don't think I look handsome, Professor?" I asked her in my most winning voice.

"Black."

"Sorry. I'm fine, Professor. Just a small cold." I excused myself. She looked unconvinced.

"When was the last time you ate anything?" she asked me. I blinked, very suddenly noticing my intense hunger and the shakiness of my legs, arms, and other limbs. I actually was not sure when I had last eaten.

"Black?" Mcgonagall said sharply. I shook my head slightly.

"Last night at dinner." I said, sounding out of it even to myself. She stared at me.

"I would say I'm shocked that you had skipped two whole meals, Black, but you look as though you've skipped a week of them." She informed me, and I almost would have sworn I heard concern mingled with her usual condescending tone.

"Really?" I asked without thinking. I immediately looked at my arms. They were far thinner than I was used to. On the verge of being scrawny. My eyes widened.

Unfortunately, Mcgonagall saw something else about my arms.

"What are those bruises from?" she asked sharply. I instantly dropped my arms and let the sleeves of my robes drape down around them, hiding the rainbow of blue, purple, and yellow bruises.

"N-nothing." I said, cursing myself as I stammered. She was staring at me as though trying to see through me. My face was burning in a terrified flush.

"Let me see them, Mr. Black." She said, more gently this time. I shook my head before I could think that it was not a good idea to tell a teacher no.

She sighed deeply.

"Mr. Black, if you don't tell me what happened, I have to look at them." She told me. I swallowed, not having an excuse ready, and a slight edge of panic rising as the memory of my incident flashed in my mind.

"J-just got into a fist fight with one of my cousins at the wedding." I invented, smiling sheepishly at her. She stared at me for a long moment.

"A fist fight." She repeated. I shrugged. She sighed again, and I knew she didn't believe me.

"Look, you are obviously not well, Mr. Black." She said. "You're starved and you are beaten. I am going to give you express permission to go see Asher Clemens in the Informary, BUT on the condition that you let the nurse check you over." She told me. I went cold at the thought. "Understood?"

"…." I considered it. "…Understood."


	8. Chapter 9

Um, hi.

It's officially been a while.

I pretty much don't have a good excuse, except I collected a truckload of new fandoms since I put this on hold and this slipped into the background. However, this is my baby, and I had to come back to it. I plan to put the previous seven chapters under revision soon, as my style has developed over the last year, but for now I've got an update for you.

**Title: What I Couldn't Tell You**

**Rating: R**

**Warnings: Dark Themes**

**Disclaimer: I do not own the rights to anything Harry Potter related.**

I went to the infirmary directly after that, but I couldn't make myself enter. I stood with my nose practically brushing the door, one hand hovering uncertainly above the doorknob. I considered turning and returning to Gryffindor Tower, but knew it wouldn't happen. I had to see Asher. Besides, I'd already sealed my fate by promising McGonagall. I swallowed and opened the door.

Immediately I smelled the familiar scent of ointment and rosemary. I was no stranger to the Hospital Wing, but this was the first time I wanted to run for my life. Normally I was a visitor. Suddenly thrust into the patient's shoes, I didn't feel so comfortable there.

"I'll be right with you," called Madame Pomfrey from the next room, sensing my entrance. I glanced in her direction and saw her giving a first year girl a spoonful of something. The girl swallowed and her eyes went very wide, a red flush rising to her cheeks. The corner of my mouth twitched.

"Alright, run along. If it doesn't get any better in a day, come back and I'll give you more." The nurse said to her. The girl nodded and ran out of the room as if on fire.

Poppy turned around. I stared at her. She stared back. For some reason my mind had gone totally blank. Why was I here?

"Black?"

Oh, right. I should say something. "Um." There, that's better. Now I just sound like a troll.

"Where have you been?" Poppy asked me, walking to me with hands on her hips.

"I – "

"Oh, tell me later. First let's check you over." She interrupted, eyes narrowing at my form. "What on Earth has happened to you?" she asked, grabbing my arm, presumably to inspect my weight loss.

I jerked away. "No, I don't need checked over!" I cried, admittedly less calmly than I would have hoped. "I'm here to see Asher."

Poppy looked at me strangely. "No one but his friends are allowed to see Clemens, Black. You are not one of his friends."

"I have permission from Professor McGonagall," I said desperately, crossing my arms protectively in front of myself.

"Why would Minerva give you her permission?"

"…" Damn. "She….uh…."

"Shall I call her down here?"

"No, it's okay, just f-forget about….it…." I said. At least, I think I did. But everything was suddenly going very fuzzy and I couldn't really hear myself. I felt my body go numb before I blacked out. Again.

I was warm. I was warm, and I was comfortable. I frowned sleepily, but didn't open my eyes. I was so tired. Someone was talking quietly nearby, but I tried to ignore them, letting the thick, sweet state of sleep wash over me.

"…bruised to….potion not…..lingering effects…"

"…how did….when….?"

I felt a tugging at my mind. They weren't supposed to be saying those things.

I fell back asleep.

Someone was shaking me, albeit gently. It was highly unwelcome in my half-sleeping state, and I opened my eyes grudgingly, planning to tell them so. I stopped when I saw McGonagall was the offender, and she was staring at me.

"Sirius! You're awake!" she cried, as though this surprised her. I couldn't imagine why. She had obviously been trying to wake me.

"Sirius, can you sit up?" she asked me, sounding concerned. I did, furrowing my brow, still disoriented. I managed to remember where I was, saving myself that embarrassing question.

"How long was I out?" is what I asked instead. McGonagall sat back, straightening her posture and looking more like herself.

"About a day," she informed me, frowning. "Sirius, while you were asleep, Madame Pomfrey ran some tests on you…" Shit. Well, I guess there was no avoiding that. "…and what she found was not very good. Sirius," she paused for a moment, her voice softening, "do you want to tell me what happened?"

I stared at my lap for a long moment. "Not really."

She sighed. I guess I was being difficult. But aren't I always difficult? "Sirius, there is no avoiding this." Aha. I was spot on. "We're going to do our best to help you, but we need you to tell us what happened so that we can catch him."

"Catch who?" I answered automatically, drawing back into my headboard. I could feel her gaze burning into the side of my head.

"Where did it happen?" she asked. Damn, persistent woman.

"…" I breathed out slowly. "I'm not sure."

She moved just slightly, but enough for me to recognize she was surprised at my answer. "What do you mean?"

"I…they took me somewhere. I don't know where I was, I was unconscious."

"They? There was more than one?" McGonagall said, startled. "The tests showed…"

"Only one of them…" I clenched my teeth. "Only one. The other guy was a lackey."

There was a long silence. I finally looked up. McGonagall had a strange look on her face. It was like something had occurred to her. I didn't want to know what.

"What?" Okay. So I _did _want to know what.

"Oh, Sirius, it's just…" she looked profoundly disturbed. "Did you get their names?"

I frowned slightly. "Well…um…Atson…" I was interrupted at this point.

"POPPY!" McGonagall called urgently. Poppy peeked in through the door.

"Yes?"

"Call Albus. Immediately." McGonagall said, her voice very serious. The hair on the back of my neck stood up.


	9. Author's Note

Oh, god. I am so sorry, guys. Like, really, I can't believe that some people are still waiting for me to keep this story going. I really can't say whether or not I'm going to be continuing this story, but as of right now, I'm going to put you all out of your misery and say that for now this is discontinued. So so sorry. Someday…. Someday I may finish it.


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